Chapter 28
Chapter 28
F or the next few minutes, I stay out of the way.
Rachel and Catalina are instantly engaged in discussion, Catalina asking how many people are still within the city and how many of them will need help moving. Petra and the other women stay close, and Rachel frequently consults them.
I listen carefully while remaining sharply aware of the way Catalina’s dragon homes in on me, moving closer even when the other dragons and their riders take to the air to guard the city’s walls.
It’s clear I’m not meant to get past him.
I back away slowly, headed for the monolith, where I can rest against the stone wolf’s front legs. When Asha recounted to me what had happened outside the city walls after the humans had tried to kill me, she said that she had turned several humans to stone.
I don’t see those statues here, so I assume someone must have removed them at some point.
Or… possibly… smashed them up…
There are a couple of mounds of rubble nearby, the dust blowing off them in the wind, but I can’t be certain they’re the remains of those statues.
The dragon follows me, maintaining a close proximity that confirms he’s guarding me.
I am not Rachel’s first priority, and I shouldn’t be, but I need to get back to Asha. I made a choice to let these people decide their own future. None of it is mine to control now.
I just need the right moment to get away from the dragon without upsetting the fragile peace that’s formed.
From the snatches I hear of the conversation, I learn nearly a third of the city’s population is dead. They have twenty prisoners, but Rachel doesn’t name them. Petra’s expression remains stony, giving no indication as to whether or not her father is one of them.
A few moments later, I’m aware of a shadow flitting toward me. Maybelle’s steps slow as she draws closer to me.
“Vandawolf?”
She sounds uncertain. My face has changed a lot since she last saw me.
“Maybelle.” I focus on the question that matters. “Is Kedric okay?”
“Yes,” she says quickly. “He’s guarding the prisoners. Several of the Wasteland Warriors are helping to guard them too, but…” she hesitates. “Many of the Warriors perished in the first fight.”
I want to tell her I’m sorry, but it will only sound hollow.
“What of my children?” she asks quietly.
She means Tamra and Gallium.
“Safe,” I say, even though it could be a lie.
I didn’t see Gallium, but the brief glimpse I caught of Tamra—the way she moved around Thaden—made it appear as if she were with him by choice.
“Thank you,” she whispers. And then, “Stay there. Don’t go yet.”
My forehead creases at her words, but she flits away again before I can question her.
A moment later, I spot Petra hurrying toward me. She’s coming from a different direction than the main group, so she must have broken off from them while I was speaking with Maybelle.
“You’re hurt,” she says, placing a basket on the ground that I recognize as her healer’s kit. “Let me help you.”
“I’m not hurt,” I growl. My wounds have all knitted. I have no need of bandages.
She plants her hands on her hips and glares at me. “You are.”
“I’m not.”
“Then what is that?” she asks, gesturing at my chest.
I glance down and pause.
Fresh blood soaks into my already torn tunic beneath the location of my heart.
“Shirt off,” she commands. “I need to see the damage.”
My brow furrows as I pull off the tunic, puzzled by the wound that rests across my uppermost left rib. I remember a stabbing pain after I jumped away from Graviter Rex, but there was no reason for me to be hurt at that moment.
Petra sets to work, ordering me about—hold this, put pressure on that, stay still, stop moving—and I scowl back at her, focusing my energy on the annoyance of being tended to and away from my confusion about the injury itself.
She’s quick and efficient, making short work of stitching and bandaging the wound.
When she finishes, I expect her to move away, but instead, she remains.
When I look up, I find her studying me.
It’s startling to discover that she’s looking directly into my eyes.
Before Asha made me whole, no human would look me in the eye.
Every part of my beastly countenance was fixed. Hideous reminders of what had been done to me. The humans couldn’t look at me, so I let my hair grow wild and allowed it to fall across the side of my face, reminding them of what I was and what I’d done to give them their freedom.
But now…
Petra contemplates me for a long moment, and I’m reminded that she knew me before I was changed, even if she didn’t know my name or where I came from.
“You’re you again,” she says.
I try to find my voice. “Asha did this.”
Petra gives a nod. “She loves you.”
I’m startled for a second time. I know Asha loves me. Now, that is.
But Asha didn’t love me when she was my captive—which was when Petra knew her—and she shouldn’t have. My power over Asha’s life was too complete.
Love can only live in freedom.
“Oh, don’t look so surprised.” Petra scoffs. “If she didn’t love you, she wouldn’t have risked her life to drag your dying body away from my father’s men. Or fixed your face.” Petra shrugs. “She hated you before that, of course.” She bends to her basket, pushing her instruments back into it. “I hated you, too.”
“I know.”
“You reminded me of him.”
My brother.
More softly, I repeat, “I know.”
She closes her basket but stays crouched beside it, her focus on it, her hands pressing to its top. “When you asked me to heal Asha, I didn’t refuse because it would hurt her. I refused because it would hurt you .”
She looks up at me again, and now tears glisten on her cheeks. “You saved me. You didn’t save him.”
I try to find my voice, but it’s nearly impossible. “He should have lived,” I whisper. “Not me.”
She nods, a harsh movement. “Yes,” she says. “But then you left.”
She rises to her feet, but her face is pale again, and she sways a little. I reach out to steady her, my hands closing around her shoulders. She doesn’t shake me off.
“Within a single day of you leaving, I had the horrifying realization that nothing truly bad happened here when you were around. I thought it was because the people in this city were good. They would never hurt each other. But it turns out… you were stopping it.”
She takes a shaky breath. “You would think, since I was Nero’s daughter, that I would be safe, but power changes people.”
She closes her eyes and falls silent.
I don’t break her silence. It is her right to speak or not to speak.
Her lips purse as she gently breathes out. “I made it to Genova’s home. We gathered together as many of the people we cared about as we could, and we barricaded ourselves in the southwestern quadrant.” Her eyes open, and now there is a steely glint in them. “Then we made a plan. And then we made my father and all his men pay.”
“Good,” I say.
She studies me for a long moment, another extended silence while the dragon remains quiet in the background.
“You found peace,” she says. “I’m glad for you.”
When she steps back, I quickly open my hands, releasing her.
She pulls out a fresh tunic and pants from her basket. “Clean clothes. You can’t go after Asha looking like that.”
Before I can take the clothing from Petra, she darts forward, wraps her arms around me, and presses her head to my heart. “I wish you were him.”
I’m frozen, my arms lifted from my sides as I try to process all the hurt in her voice, the lost life she could have had if my brother had lived instead of me.
I want to speak, but there are no words for this pain.
She releases me as quickly as she darted forward, pushing the clothing into my arms before she lifts her chin and looks me in the eye. “Goodbye, Vandawolf.”
She only takes a step before she pauses again. “Don’t let that dragon stop you. I don’t think he’s as coldhearted as he looks.”
Then she turns and hurries away.
The finality of her farewell isn’t lost on me.
Either she believes that she won’t survive long enough to see me again or that I won’t.
Or maybe there is a world where we both survive, and it’s the past that is finally put to rest.
I quickly pull off my torn clothing and dress in the fresh garments Petra brought me.
As for that dragon , he chooses that moment to speak.
“It will take you weeks to find Asha Silverspun,” he says. “Even with the help of your bird.”
I’m not sure exactly where Blackbird could be right now, but I’m certain he would have flown clear of the dragons.
“Do you have a point, dragon?” I ask. “Or are you trying to provoke me?”
“I will make you a deal.”
I consider him warily. In the past, I was the one who made deals and always to my own ends. “What deal?”
“Convince the Einherjar to join our army, and I will tell you where to find Asha Silverspun.”
I narrow my eyes at the dragon. “But she’s with Thaden Kane. If you knew where to find him, you would have gone after him already.”
The dragon gives a humph . “I would not.”
“Why not?”
“More than one reason.”
I can’t stop a growl from entering my voice, my frustration rising at his evasion. “Name one.”
He tips his chin at me. “Your wolf’s voice is very effective, Erik, but it doesn’t work on me.”
My eyes were already narrowed, but now my brow furrows because he called me Erik . “You know my name.”
“Of course. Graviter told us. You should get used to hearing it.”
I ignore his suggestion. “I don’t know yours.”
“I am Vargo Vanem.”
My forehead creases as I attempt to interpret his name’s meaning. “‘Wise Light’?”
“Simply translated, yes. Now that Lysander Rex has perished, my son will be the next dragon king. When he hatches, that is.”
It takes me a second to remember that dragons hatch from eggs.
Vargo continues. “He will not hatch for another three hundred years. So until then, we must guard our future carefully.”
I’m surprised by Vargo’s admission of vulnerability. “That’s a long time.”
“We count our generations in centuries, not decades.” Vargo shakes his head, a surprisingly forlorn movement. “Graviter and his mate have two more eggs. They are twin boys, both fire dragons. They should have been next in line, but they will not hatch for another seven hundred years. We cannot wait that long for our next monarch.”
“Convincing the Einherjar to join your human army will be impossible,” I say.
Vargo doesn’t seem surprised by my abrupt change of subject. “Why impossible?”
“They’re separated into clans that are at war with each other. They don’t fight for any cause but their own.”
“You can unite them.”
I can’t stop my growl. “The son of a traitor? They will vie for the honor of killing me.”
Vargo makes a rumbling sound in the back of his throat. “Not now that the Valkyrie Queen has reserved a place for you at the head of the table.”
“Even more so now.” My lips twist with bitterness. “The Valkyrie Queen may as well have painted a target on my back. The Einherjar will come after me simply for the fight. To die at my hand will guarantee them a place in the Hall.”
“Well, you were dead.” The dragon shrugs. “She didn’t do it deliberately.”
He isn’t wrong. Even so, I succumb to my frustration and give another growl.
“You have no choice, Erik the Vandawolf,” he says, staring me down.
No choice?
Oh… Fuck.
The Einherjar strive only for glory in death. They will come for me no matter what, and if I’m with Asha…
Ah, but if I’m with Asha.
I can’t stop the rumble of laughter in my chest.
She would say, Let them come . She will fight beside me. We will take them down together.
But my humor quickly fades because her hammer will not kill.
Her power is limitless, but only for the light.
I armed her with everything good in my heart. Every wish I had for her. The life she deserves.
I gave her nothing of darkness.
A roar of frustration builds within me because I made her vulnerable, and now Thaden has her. It will take me weeks to find her, and I’ll only bring the Einherjar with me.
I have to deal with them. And quickly.
My father’s creed has become part of my soul: Protect the people you love at any cost.
I make the only decision I can. “Take me to the Einherjar,” I say to the dragon. “I will make them join your army.”
If I don’t kill them first.